Love's Chance at Fate
by Andel
Summary: LEGOLAS ROMANCE!! Please review if you're not crabby. Elf maiden runs from her past in order to escape her future with Legolas. They bump into each other years later... and a whole lotta drama follows~! Not you average Legomance!
1. Defiance

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

www.uib.no/people/hnohf/wordlists.htm

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter One: Defiance

  
  


A weathered leaf fell from its branch, unheard through the dense forest. It rested silently on the forest bed. Autumn had taken effect throughout the land of Mirkwood.

Nearby, an Elf ran through the trees, hoping they wouldn't give away her secret to any other, that by chance, might pass by the same way. She ran as quick and as light through the dense wood as an Elf was capable of.

The Elf tripped over her shirts, and fell to the forest floor. She sat for a moment, pain gathering in her eyes. 'What am I doing?' She questioned herself. 'I'm running away...' But then the voice of reason stepped in. 'Because this is for them... and they want this more than I ever will.' The truth of the matter was that she was escaping this alleged 'arranged marriage' in order to preserve her own freedom... or so she thought. Her misconceptions of the visit and of marriage ran high. Bits of her Elder's conversations echoed in her mind.

"Maybe they'll remember each other..."

"Perhaps they will see each other in a new light. Like we once did..."

"This is going to work out, I know it will. Thranduil is going to encourage him..."

But another voice ran clear in her mind as well, that of her mother's, always the one of reality and optimism...

"My daughter, he has grown just as fair as you. And this is not a definite union! We cannot force you to love who you will not love..."

Unfortunately, her father was not as tender hearted as her mother. Though for his age he was notoriously wise and held high regards with the elven folk in the land, he was ambitious as well, and both Vilisse and her mother knew this.

Perhaps that was the main reason Vilisse knew she must not stay. Her father would do anything it took to achieve his own wishes. He was not an easy elf to please.

The elf stood again and hurried onwards.

She knew that her actions might lead to never seeing her family again. Her life, as it seemed to her now, had led up to this point, like it had all been planned from the beginning.

As a young elf, Vilisse had spent countless years as a Prince's play mate. Their families had been close, being that both fathers were political figures, and so she had spent a great deal of her childhood living in the palace with the Prince and his family. Neither of the two young elflings had really known why she was there. But they had been young and naive, and neither had really thought on it much. After all, they were just best friends.

Though technically, it was not an 'arranged marriage', it had given the two royal families hope that a union would suffice through the friendship and familiarity within the two elves themselves. That somehow, love would spring forth, like a budding leaf in the late winter frost. 

However, due to reasonable circumstances, the Prince and the Lady had grown apart in the coming years of Elf-hood. The Lady had left the palace when she was of maturing age, and neither of them had seen, spoken, or had any contact with one another since. Long years followed, and Vilisse grew into her own self, letting her childhood friend pass out of memory and found a new life of her own. She remembered him only as that: a fond memory, and nothing more.

  
  


Royal life had never suited her, her mother had always said. Vilisse was not the average Lady, so untamed and full of spirit. It was said that it would take another hundred years for her to mature out of this untamed spirit that possessed her, even though she was bordering on four thousand years old.

The Elders had decided it would be beneficial for the two families to join together again and catch up, reunite old friendships, and (hopefully) spark new ones. But the Elven Lady who ran from these hopes feared what might come of this visit. Long years ago she had sworn to herself never to become conquered and imprisoned in her own home, as so many females had been, once they were bound in love. It was for that same reason that she fled now, believing her own fate doomed by this entrancement. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: A person's "spirit" meaning his/her general personality and attitude.

Arandur: King's servant/steward

Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

Huore: Vigor of the heart

Tumna: Low lying, dark/hidden, profound, deep.


	2. Angry Answers

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Two: Angry Answers

  
  


Angry voices echoed loudly in the brightly-lit halls, reverberating every syllable. 

"Where is she? Where in the Valar is she?!" Demanded an outraged Elf. His wife tried to calm him.

"Don't yell so loudly! The whole Kingdom is going to hear you!" She held onto his arm. Elwen loved her husband dearly, though at times he acted a *little* over-ecstatic. 

"She'll be home soon... she always is..." Elwen tried to comfort him. He looked at her incredulously.

"I think you give our daughter too much credit. This is no ordinary 'party'. The Prince will be here in a week and she decides to go wandering off NOW?" He shook his head. "I knew something like this was going to happen... I KNEW it! I should've locked her up when I had the chance." Elwen shook her head at him.

"You wouldn't really have done that, would you?" She asked him, putting her hand on his arm. He seemed to be calming down a bit, but he was still fuming. 

"I don't know... we should have known after what she said last night. That whole, 'I am my own' speech she gave us after we mentioned the Royal Court's visit. She needs to learn her place! She can't run away every time she doesn't like the way things are going! What is she going to do in life when she's on her own, and something bad happens? There are only so many places to run to before you're trapped."

"Perhaps she has cold feet... it isn't uncommon you know. I felt the same thing before I met you, and look how it turned out. I have faith she'll turn up." Elwen looked out the window, as if Vilisse would suddenly jump through it. "Which," she added quickly, "I am sure she will. You needn't fret."

"What are we going to say to the King of Mirkwood when he and his sons show up at our door looking for Legolas' wife-to-be and she isn't here? 'Sorry, she's out at the moment, may I take a message?'" 

"Wife-to-be? Don't be foolish! You didn't promise that... did you? You know you cannot give out your daughter's heart to whomever you wish."

"Elwen, it was decided long ago that Thranduil and I had made a contract with Legolas and Vilisse in mind... whether it be a mere friendship, or a passionate marriage, it is what it is."

"You made a contract to promise Vilisse's hand in marriage?"

"Not a contract, but a bond. It isn't that uncommon, you should know. Though we live endless years, eventually it weighed on my mind that I want someone to take care of my only child... I want her to be happy Elwen, and for a maiden as fair as she, it wouldn't be easy, nor safe for her to be on her own. I dwell on the thought of our journey over the sea many times... I don't want her to be left here alone. We both know she wishes to remain in Middle-Earth until her years are spent and is ready to cross the sea to join us. I did not arrange a marriage, but rather encouraged it."

Elwen shook her head in dismay. She understood this worry for their daughter, and her well being. However, she also knew Vilisse did not want to be forced into something she did not concur herself. Her daughter's flight had occurred to Elwen the previous night when all three of them were in conflict over this...

'Father, do you not understand? My heart is my own! It cannot just be thrown to whoever you desire! I am not ready to bind my heart to anyone!'

'Daughter, understand that I am in no way binding your heart to anyone! I only ask that you try, nay... consider the possibilities in front of you. You will not be under our care forever, and one day your mother and I will leave these shores to the Havens. You have made it clear that you will not come with us, and for that I give you leave. But I will not leave you here utterly alone and unprotected! I fear for you, Vilisse...'

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  
  
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  



	3. Camping Trip

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Three: Camping Trip

  
  


Vilisse continued on for the next two days, sure that her Elders wouldn't let her go so easily. They might think she was on a 'camping' trip, which she took the liberty of often. Vilisse liked to call it that because she took only bare essentials in a small pack, heading towards new territory(although still within the boundaries of the Elder's property).

  
  


Vilisse thought back on the previous night. After the conversation she had with her Elders, Vilisse had no doubt that they would soon learn why she fled them. Vilisse was rarely a creature of habit, but often did she weave the same conversation thread into their discussions. She was interested in being akin to those that wandered the world, and not in a palace. In all reality, love sickened her. Though she might never admit it, it scared her. The whole idea of becoming 'one' with another, and being powerless over her own emotions made her feel insecure.

Vilisse had not seen the Prince since childhood, and was sure as daylight that he was handsome and easy to swoon over. In order to escape from this spell, she had devised a plan to leave a week ahead of the court's arrival. Then Vilisse could save them the trip, and give her Elders the excuse that she had been lost to the darkness.

'I am sure he will find someone more willing and able to love than I,' she thought. Vilisse wanted to become 'lost' as soon as possible, and thought it best to leave early. She sighed in frustration. It was not that she didn't want to love, but she longed for her own freedom to decide. 'Love' she had always thought, 'is meant for someone better than I.'

She raced through the dense trees in search of the Forest River which would take her northwest out of Mirkwood, and towards the Grey Mountains. She would change her clothing when she got near the boat; she had only worn this perchnet of a dress to ward off suspicion that she wasn't going anywhere.

  
  


Later that afternoon, Vilisse had reached the Forest River and the boat she would use to venture forth. She had always hid the boat there so she didn't have to drag it back and forth on her daily paddles up stream. As she changed clothing, a noise caught her attention.

Crunch, crunch.

Vilisse turned her head swiftly. Her keen elven eyes detected nothing, and neither did her ears, for the moment. In the forest she usually had very sharp hearing, but the blood pounding in her ears made it difficult to hear.

Vilisse's fear of what would happen if her father found her tore at her heart. This would be the last walk she ever took alone, if she were discovered. And perhaps the last in these woods.

Not only was there fear of her own father, but also of the Elvenking Thranduil and Prince Legolas, deemed guardian and husband. How could she spend the rest of her life locked away in a dungeon somewhere because she slipped up in her attempt to escape them? She knew should not dwell on the possibilities as she rode the river.

Vilisse was now clothed in dark apparel, which blended well in the wood. A dark emerald cloak extended over her muscular frame. She had a face of nobility and though she would never admit this, she was quite fair to look upon. All was now concealed in a deep hood.

For that night and into the following day the boat took her upstream, into a more less populated area. It would be another day or two before she reached any kind of village or establishment, where she could sleep in a bed again. Vilisse camped ashore for the next three nights, and kept her guard up for as long as she could spare.

  
  


She shoved her boat upside a tree facing the wood near the bank and walked ashore. Though she had been to this small establishment before, it was hardly recognizable as anything that might contain life. The Man-village, allowed by the King of Mirkwood to exist as an outside establishment in the wild some time ago, resembled the forest around it, and was a trick to see if you did not know where to look for it, or that it existed. It was fenced in by wooden boards that covered the space between the trees that encompassed it. All was enclosed in except for a small opening, but large enough for three large men to walk abreast. Walking through the entrance with little notice, she went to the small inn that was kept up by a stout man, who greeted her readily.

"How can I help ya? Be needin' lodging?" He asked, staring at the state of her clothing, which was weathered due to years of use. In a voice as gruff as she could possibly muster under the cloak she answered him, "Yes." He looked at her suspiciously, deciding by the sound of her voice that she was an adolescent male. She made no move.

"Do you have money?" 

"Who do you think you're--" She had let her voice slip. She cleared her throat and continued. "dealing with?" She handed him the correct amount.

"All right, all right! Sorry." And he went back behind the counter to grab a key and a piece of parchment. "You'll find your room here," He pointed to the paper, "and here is your key. Good night, sir." She mustered a 'thank-you' and went up the stairs, pack in hand.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  



	4. Memories

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Four: Memories and Decisions

  
  


Elwen stared out the window at twinkling stars, thinking of days long ago. She could remember when her daughter was only a little elf, no more than ten years old.

  
  


Flashback

  
  


A beautiful afternoon filled the forest with a golden light. Vilisse sat down near a trunk, prowling in wait for her Master of Lessons to come. He had told her that today was special, and she would find out if only she met him near the edge of the wood. He eventually came about looking for her. She stayed silent, not making a sound to alert him of her location. He looked around and slowly came near the base of the trunk she lay behind.

He called out her name once or twice, and she did not answer. She stuffed her laughter down as he walked away. It worked! 

When he was out of hearing distance, Vilisse sat up, looking around. There was not a soul to be found, just branches that swayed gently in the breeze. She stared up at one in particular, shielding her eyes from the blinding sunlight. I wonder how they got so tall? Suppose they are immortal like us? She pondered. No, nothing can live as long as the elves. Vilisse began to walk further in the wood, ignoring all the warnings she had been given about getting lost. I am Mirkwoodian, after all, she had thought bravely. I can't get lost in my own woods. Her Master of Lessons had especially warned her about the wood, and how scary it can be alone with no sense of direction. But she always figured that because he was from Rivendell, he wasn't as well acquainted with the woods as she was. Vilisse blew off his dusty advice and decided to go as far as her feet would carry her.

Meanwhile, back in the Palace Halls...

Lord Huore paced back and forth on the great marble floor. It was almost dark now, and his daughter was no where to be found. Istimar, her Master of Lessons, had reported her missing for nearly five hours. All the things that could happen to his little elf... he didn't even want to imagine.

Elvenking Thranduil sat upon his throne in the adjoining marble hall. He had his hands clasped under his chin, and was deep in thought. A quiet voice startled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see his son, who was no more than 11. 

"Father," said his son, lowering his head in respect, "Perhaps she is still in the wood. May we look for her there?" He raised his piercing blue eyes to meet with a pair exactly the same. The King smiled at him.

"My dear Legolas, the guard has searched the edge of the wood, and she was not to be found, and the hour is late. Why are you not in bed?" He asked his son.

"I came to console you. Father, you seem to be heavily burdened as of late."

"It must be true, what they say," he said, smiling. "'The young can see through every barrier around the mind'. Yes Legolas, the kingdom you and I share always seems to have a heavy burden of some sort to lay upon its King. Now why don't you go to bed? Your friend will be found by morning, have no fear." He kissed his son on the head and sent him off to bed. Though this seemed to satisfy the prince, Lord Huore still paced worriedly in the connecting corridor. Why had she wondered off? He could only imagine what he would do if he saw her again.

  
  


Flashback over

  
  


It hadn't seemed long ago that Vilisse took her first flirt with the wood. Many of her kind were entranced by its beauty and serenity. Vilisse had been 'claimed' by it, as they say in Mirkwood. Huore and Elwen had not let her near it alone again, lest she wander off and almost be lost, like that mid-summer's eve she was ten. But, Vilisse continued to take walks in the woods near their home, which wasn't far from the Cave, the Palace of Mirkwood.

Now Elwen smiled fondly at her daughter's memory. She would have given anything just to see her. The truth remained that Elwen wouldn't have made her marry the Prince of Mirkwood, if only she would just come home! However, Vilisse's father was quite a different story. He would hunt her down till the end of his days, wherever that might be. He also loved his daughter, but it was shed in a different light. He loved her for her potential.

  
  


Huore had known from the beginning of his daughter's life that she was destined to be greater than some maid of another wealthy couple. He had told her that time and again as she grew up, complaining of her lessons, especially of Mirkwood's politics. When she was little, she hadn't put up such a fight as in her later adolescence, but then she hadn't known what she was destined for. Vilisse had every little girl's dream: that of a being a princess. But Vilisse grew out of her childish dreams and woke to up to reality. Huore shook his head. Vilisse had been one of the most stuck up elf-maidens he had ever known. Almost as bad a human! He thought to himself many times. But the truth was, nothing could change her fate, and he knew this. 

Long ago, before he had settled down with Elwen and sat in the Council of King Thranduil, Huore Arandur had journeyed to Lothlorien, the beloved realm of the Golden Elves. He had been just a young lad then, barely 400 years old. He remembered his divine experience of meeting Queen Galadriel. She had shown him a magical water mirror.

  
  


Flashback

  
  


"Look into the mirror, Huore Arandur, and you shall see what you may. This mirror shows things that might yet come to pass, that are, and that have already crossed over for you." She spoke wisely, her form glowing ominously. 

"Does it show the truth?" He had asked her innocently, not intending any offense. She had known this the moment he thought it. 

"It has been known to be truthful." She glided away from the bowl, and let him step up. It was dark inside, and began to flash pictures of what was familiar to him. He saw a beautiful Elf standing gracefully before himself, and he held her hands. Then he saw the Greenwood, (Mirkwood before it turned Mirkish, infested with the dark allegiances of Mordor) and himself setting foot there with this Lady. He was then shown a view of the Greenwood palace cave, which he had not stepped foot in. Then he was shone something quite different. Huore was shown an elven maiden with features strikingly close to his own. She stood next to a golden-haired Elf, who held her hands tightly and bore a ring for her delicate finger. Then the bowl clouded over, and all else disappeared. He looked up to ask Queen Galadriel why he had been shown the later of the reminiscence, but found himself alone.

  
  


Flashback over

  
  


Huore often pondered the meaning of these visions during the coming years. Then he had met the beautiful elf in the mirror, and all else failed his memory. 

He thought back on it now, wishing he could have made it come true. A film of gray clouded over his confidence. He had to find her, he must. If she could not be found, then she would be declared dead. The greatest honor, it seemed to him now, would have been giving his daughter away to the eldest Prince of Mirkwood. But if Vilisse could not find it in her heart to come back to them or to common sense, then he would have to move on. 'If I pronounce her dead to the kingdom, then she had better wish she's dead,' brooded Lord Huore. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. A Message

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Five: A Message 

  
  


Vilisse sat near a window, looking over the meat of this small civilization. It was near five in the morning, and she had been up for an hour, thinking out her journey. She would have lived in the wood forever, had it not been for the danger of her discovery. Vilisse was sure she could have hid herself, but her father was an elf of great tracking abilities. He had once been on King Thranduil's Royal Guard when he was younger. Well, younger than now. Huore had told her stories of his great adventures when she was very young, before her mother would pull her off to bed. Vilisse had enjoyed his tales of adventure and danger. He abruptly stopped when the effects of his stories were seen in her behavioral traits. 

Vilisse knew she was not destined to be someone's maid, as her father put it so frequently. She knew she would be expected to find a way to provide for herself. But what Vilisse had in mind and what her father had in mind were two completely different stories. He had meant that she would be provided for. Vilisse thought she should be able to do anything she chose, and her father believed she should do anything that was becoming of herself. He never stood for anything that would be 'unbecoming' of her. His daughter aspiring to be in the Royal Guard was considered by him, 'unbecoming'.

Vilisse sighed and stood up. She knew she would have to be careful for the next couple of months or so, if not years. Vilisse figured her father might just give up on her, and tell the prince and his dad that they had to find a new wife for him. She slid into her well-worn cloak and slung her pack over her shoulders.

  
  


Meanwhile, near the Palace of Mirkwood, a lesson was taking place.

"You must keep your elbow bent and your wits about you. Remember, this is a only a test to track your progress. Keep on the trail. Act quickly and responsibly. Don't let your heart get the best of you, and more importantly", the tall elf looked at his pupil, "keep your mind on track. You have two hours to finish this course, though I doubt you will need it. Good luck Prince Legolas, and I will see you on the other side of the track. When you reach the Forest River, take the boat to the other side and follow the trail." The middle-aged-looking elf walked away, leaving one alone, armed with three quivers worth of arrows on his back and a long bow in his hand. The elf looked towards the trail. When his instructor had disappeared from sight, he began.

  
  


"What news have you brought forth from the Arandur estate?" Asked King Thranduil, who sat upon his throne of carved wood.

But the messenger from the Arandur estate held no happy expression. She had been sent by Huore himself to send word to the King of his daughter's timely disappearance. 

"My dear King," she bowed low, almost to her knees, "Lord Huore and Lady Elwen regret to inform you that should your company start on their way to the Arandur estate, they would be disappointed at who they would not find there." The King's expression showed curiosity.

"Why should we be disappointed? Does Lord Huore not recall the negotiations we made in my hall when he was a member of my guard and a dear friend?"

"Yes, your Highness, he remembers perfectly well, but his daughter defies him. She knew not the extent of her father's special interest in your family until 7 months ago." The King looked not angry as one might expect, but baffled. "She has chosen quite a time to run off I'm afraid", said the messenger.

"Yes, she has. This I am very curious of, does she divert away from the Prince? Is this why she runs?" He asked.

"Lady Vilisse is determined she will not pose as a royal figure. She wishes to fall in love with the one whom she will. Lady Vilisse resists a marriage she had no knowledge of, nor of whom it is with." She answered in defense of her Lady. She had not come here to defend her cousin without a fight.

"This I cannot answer to. It is between Lady Vilisse and her father that this anger must be cooled. Are you tired from your long journey? Pray tell me your name?" The King asked.

"I am Lady Sacre, dear cousin to the Lady Vilisse." She said, bowing again before her king.

"My dear! Why have you not said this upon arrival?" He stood from his throne and took her arm, leading her out into the stone hallway to a guestroom.

"Stay as long as you wish. I do hope you will consider staying a while. Perhaps you can brief the prince on her absence?" He asked with a smile. Lady Sacre tried to smile back as best she could.

"Yes your highness." The king paid his thanks and swept away. Sacre stood outside the door. She had brought little with her, aside from what were in her saddlebags. Saddle bags! She thought suddenly. She had forgotten them in the heat of the moment as she left her horse Lasset in the care of the stable elves. Sacre headed back down the hall and out the palace towards the stables.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  



	6. Meeting the Prince

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Six: Meeting the Prince

  
  


Sacre walked quickly outside of the palace, and gave the guards at the entrance a nod. She ran back to where she thought the stables were, and got turned around somehow on the way there. It hadn't been long since her father, Huore's brother, had taken his family on a visit here. Her father's friend, a member of the Royal Guard, had invited them to stay awhile. The Arandur brothers had both once been members. 'Brothers of the Guard', they were often called.

Sacre stopped and looked around, thinking she heard something or someone not too far off. She stood, listening intently in the thickness of the wood. 

Nothing.

Sacre traced back her steps on the path and came out on the other side to see a middle-aged-looking Elf waiting where she had come out. He hadn't been there before.

"Hello," she said, feeling slightly odd.

"Greetings! Are you Lady Sacre?" He offered.

"Yes... who are you?" She asked him.

"I am a friend of your father's and Houre. Pray tell me, is he here on a visit?" He asked kindly.

"No, I am afraid not, just me. I had news to bring King Thranduil from my uncle and aunt, Lord Houre and Lady Elwen."

"Just you then?" He asked, rather surprised at a female all alone.

"Yes, just me. I am looking for the stables, I'm afraid I left my saddlebags there with my horse. Could you tell me how to get there?"

"I can show you if you'd like. It isn't too far away." He offered his arm, and she took it.

"Thank you. I did get a little turned around back there. What were you waiting for?" She asked, trying to keep his interest.

"I was waiting for a pupil. He has an assessment today, and should be finishing in the next ten minutes or so." They approached a large stable with green vines that had wound themselves around it, as if supporting the stable itself. 

"This way." He led them in. There were horses on both sides of the stable. Towards the end of the large room she saw Lasset standing comfortably near the feed box in her stall.

"Hello, my friend." Sacre petted her nose and rubbed her neck. The horse nudged her hands. Sacre went to the wall where Lasset's saddle and bridle were kept with her saddle bags. She opened one of the bags and pulled out a lump of sugar and some green herbs. She held them out to the horse, who took them readily. Sacre went back to the wall and took two of the three bags off the wall and slung them over her shoulder.

"Thank you for showing me the way." She gave Lasset one last pat and the two elves walked out of the stables.

"It was no problem malady. Would you like an escort back to the palace? My pupil should be done any minute now. I have to go back to through the course to see how well he did. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"All right, if you're sure he wouldn't mind," she jested.

They went back to the entrance of the trail and waited. Soon enough, Legolas came bounding out on the path and halted when he saw his mentor and Sacre.

"I have finished, Feilen." He panted. Then he looked from his mentor to the Lady, who caught his eye.

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself malady. I am Legolas Greenleaf, I don't believe we have met." he bowed his head, an elvish custom of respect.

"No, I am afraid we have not. I am Sacre, daughter of Yulous Arandur." She curtsied with a smile. "I am afraid I haven't the best of news for you regarding my cousin, Vilisse Arandur." Legolas' expression seemed somewhat indifferent.

"Well, why don't you two go back to the palace and get ready for dinner? I will be back up myself in an hour's time. Legolas, would you mind showing the Lady back to her quarters?" Feilen asked.

"I wouldn't mind at all." He responded.

When they were far enough away that the keen ears of Feilen would not hear them, Legolas broke the silence.

"What news have you brought of Lady Vilisse? She is all right, I hope?" He asked, concern showing beneath his same piercing eyes.

"Well, we don't know if she is all right. She took flight, and no one has been able to find her. I came to tell the King of this, so to save you the trip to our home." Legolas walked along silently, his brow furrowed in thought. They came up to the entrance of the palace cave, and the guards merely moved aside when they saw their Prince. The great doors opened with the King's magic. He led her down the winding stone hallways until they reached a door that looked vaugly familiar to Sacre.

"Here is my stop. Thank you, your Highness, for leading me back."

"It was no problem. Will you be joining us for dinner?" He asked.

"If I am invited, I will come. My stomach has emptied since this morning."

"Consider yourself invited. I will send for you. Goodbye, for the moment." He smiled.

"For the moment." She watched him walk back down the hallway. He seemed nice enough, and rather attractive too. Sacre couldn't think of why Vilisse couldn't have given him a chance. But then again, Vilisse would do whatever she wanted, no matter what anyone else thought.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Changes

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Seven: Changes

  
  


53 years had passed since the day Vilisse Arandur had left everything familiar behind in search of life elsewhere. She hadn't left a trace to follow. Vilisse figured her Elders had let go of her memory and gave her up as dead. She knew her father would have let go of her memory eventually, but the only regret was what effect it was sure to have on her mother.

She had the look of a beautiful young woman about her. Vilisse had grown stronger both emotional and physically, more than what her parents could have prepared her for.

Now, turning over a glassy-blue amulet in her palm, given to her on her 100th birthday, she looked out onto the grassy plain before her. She was on her way again, something she had grown used to over the last 53 years. Vilisse had dealt with many adversaries in that time, both that wanted her dead and those that wanted her hand. She had somehow managed to either avoid or combat them rather well. Even those who had come to love her as family would not see her leave them behind. But she always managed to leave just before they got wind of it.

She walked with a quick pace across the plain, treading lightly on the golden grass that had grown long into stalks. Vilisse looked up at the bright sun high overhead, and judged it to be around eleven. She smiled, reminiscing about the place she had stayed for the longest she had been anywhere-one year. She turned the blue stone over in her hand and put it up to the light and it shone through clearly, enhancing its glass-like qualities.

"Padleen, what are you doing?" She turned around to face a young man around twenty two years of age, exactly as one would have thought her to be.

"I am on a walk. What are you doing back here?" She asked him, knowing, but unafraid of what he was going to accuse her.

"Padleen, you aren't coming back, are you?" He paused. "Is it true what they say of you? That you never stay anywhere long before leaving everyone in the dust?" Concern was showing in his dark eyes. If he had been an elf, she would have considered him more than just a friend, and that's what he thought.

"That is a lie, and you know it. Move on Forlin. Move on. We are not meant to be, nor have we ever been."

"But then, why did you play me? Are you that cruel?" He asked, starting to get angry and sad with her at the same time. 

"I never played you, Forlin." She said softly, touching his face. "I care about you, but when I come back it will not be for your feelings. I must leave now." She turned to leave, but he grabbed her shoulder.

"No! You will NOT leave like this. At least tell Grandmum of your departure! She will be heartbroken, and you know it! When you first came here, she took you in out of the rain! Quite literally, and now you can't even face her to say goodbye? You are a coward if you leave now Padleen."

"I am no coward! Let go of me. NOW." She commanded him. But he didn't let go.

"You think you have forever to live, Padleen. But there will come a day when you don't want to be alone anymore." He pulled her close against him, leaning for a kiss. "You won't live forever, but we could." He kissed her passionately, and she pushed against him, breaking it away.

"No. We can't live forever, Forlin. You can't live forever." She began to walk away, but he pulled her back again, this time hurting her arm.

"I won't let you leave." He warned. She merely frowned at him.

"You will let go. I don't want to hurt you Forlin. Let go of me NOW." He smiled at her.

"You don't want to hurt ME?" 

"That's right. Got a problem with that?" She twisted her arm out of his hold, flexed his knee with her foot and had him a headlock in less than three seconds. He struggled against her. "I don't want to hurt you. As I said before, I care for you as a brother, but nothing more. Will you leave me be?" He struggled against her. Finally, figuring he had been defeated, he gave in.

"Certainly." She pushed him to the ground and left him gasping for breath. As she turned away he muttered, "As you wish, Orc," and rubbed his neck. She turned around sharply and marched back up to him.

"What was that?" A pause as she stood before him. "Sorry, but I didn't want to do this." She kicked him hard in the stomach, making him fall further to the ground clutching his stomach in utter pain, keeling over with the urge to vomit.

She walked away, frowning. She really liked him, and wished he hadn't been so arrogant about her leaving. 'Oh well. Just another goodbye.' She thought, shrugging it off.

Her thoughts drifted to the future. Vilisse knew there was a place she could stay named Bree, which wasn't too far off from where she was now.

  
  


By the time she had reached Bree, it was nearly dawn of the next day, and she had to wait until the Innkeeper came out to greet her in the early morning light. She got a room and requested if there was any work needed in town that the cheery keeper knew of. He told her he could use some help, and it would pay for her rent and some extra. She agreed to this, and was set to work in the Inn's restaurant. All the while, Mr. Butterbur the Inn-keeper kept buying her story that she was a poor traveling orphan human girl and that she had no where to turn to.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. The Birthday Present

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Eight: The Birthday Present

  
  


"No, I told you not to do that sweetie. Why don't you see if your cousin will take you out to the gardens this afternoon? I'm sure she'd enjoy your company." Elwen had not physically aged a day since Vilisse had left. A young elf jumped off the soft pillow she had been poking at and ran outside as her mother sighed, watching the fleeing child. Two years after Vilisse had been lost, Elwen had conceived another child. This child did not resemble her late sister one bit. In place of Vilisse's soft dark hair, her younger sister's golden hair flowed wavily down her back. Instead of Vilisse's athletic muscular curves, the girl exhibited a dainty bone structure. The only resemblance the girl had that could pair her with her older sister were her brilliant eyes. They were most unusual, as her sister's had been. Both siblings had deep emerald eyes cast in an almond shape that did not resemble anyone in their family gene pool one bit.

Though the child was but 50, she was still promising to her father, and a joy to all around her. Many could forsee that she would grow to be quite a lady someday. Her mother loved her with all her heart, and would not let her husband make the same mistake. Elwen vowed she would not let her husband take their child away for years on end, or enter her in a courtship. Thus their daughter grew up away from many of the trifle her elder sister had once delt with. She had no extensive knowledge of Mirkwood, nor of the woods and navigation. That, after all, had aided in her sister's escape, and her parents would not be so foolish as to give this daughter that tool. 

  
  


The elven child, named Andellia, grew to be the center of her mother's heart. As an older child of 60 , she began to take to lady like qualities, much to the delight of her parents. By the time she reached 83, it was certain that her good breeding would land her somewhere better than an old maid or a fierce warrior wanderer. On her 100th birthday, she was given a marvelous gift. That night was a grand celebration, not only celebrating her birthday, but also that of the promotion of her father to reign as a Lord of the Southern Quarter, where their large home dwelt. He acted as chief governor and correspondent to the King Thranduil. 

"And so, my dear family and friends, I thank you for your support and hospitality you have shown me. I would also like to thank Eu himself, for this fortune I have received, and the honor to be celebrating this event with my daughter's birthday!" Clapping sounded across the floor.

"I thank you once again for your generosity and kindness, enjoy the lovely evening!" The clapping sounded for the last time and Huore sat down at the table next to his daughter.

"Great speech father." She whispered in her father's ear. He smiled lovingly back at her.

"My dear daughter, I have something for you that has been passed down in my family from my grandmother." He pulled out a small satchel wrapped in a sliver silken cloth that shimmered underneath the dim light. She held her breath as she took it from him, wondering what could be so important for something so small. The silk slid off to reveal a beautiful irregularly shaped blue pendant that glistened on the end of a platinum chain.

"Father . . . this . . . this is for me?" She looked at him. "Certainly I am not worthy of such a jewel!"

"My Andellia," He smiled kindly at her, "this is no ordinary jewel. It is your heirloom. Hold it up to the light and look through it." She did as he instructed. The light from the candle lit it up and made it shine like a blue diamond. She took it down, staring at it in wonder, feeling the warmth that seemed to radiate from it.

"It is yours as long as you live. A gift from your Grandmother, I should say. Do you like it?"

"Father, " she said, tears forming in her eyes, "It is most beautiful... I love it!" She hugged her father. "But a strange magick appears through its luster..." He began to put it around her neck.

"Yes, I thought you would notice. Not many have lived to see such a stone. It is indeed a Livie Stone, which often show things to some but not to others. I can see that you two make a perfect match." 

"How did Grandma chance upon it? I thought that Livie stones were nearly extinct..." She asked, holding up her hair so he could join the clasps.

"Yes, they ARE extinct. And she did not chance upon it. But that is a story for another time. Now is the time to engage in a little dancing. Would you give me the pleasure, my fairest daughter?" He stood up, and she took her father's hand confidently. Andellia had been named one of the most graceful in her talent for musical dance.

"I thought I was your ONLY daughter!" She said with a grin. Something clouded his eyes, so she thought at that moment, but his grin never faded.

"That you are!" And off they went, laughing in the light that held such innocence and peace.

For the rest of the night, she could feel the stone's warmth lay against her chest. Often she would wonder how just a little stone could give her such comfort. Had Huore known its meaning, he would never have given it to her.

  
  


An unknown shudder woke the sleeping Vilisse. She sat upright, feeling the tension in her chest, and moved her stone aside as she felt the searing pain where it had lain on her. She quickly took it off, and looked at it in the dark. It seemed to be emitting a blue hue that lit up the room enough for her to light a candle. When she held up the stone, what she felt made her immensely warm. The light glowed fiercely on her hand, and it burned her so much that she had to put it down so she would not be branded. It lay on her night stand, and when she reached out for it, after its fierce light had faded, it seemed to be cooler. Vilisse lay awake awhile, pondering if this had any meaning. She had been given her stone on her 100th birthday, long ago. Her father had only told her that it was an extinct stone that meant everything to their family. Her Grandmother had acquired it somehow, though he had never told her how.

But this passed from her mind and she blew out the fading candle, letting sleepiness take her over.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  



	9. New Strangers

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


Chapter Nine: New Strangers

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


"Anything else for you? Would you all like another pint?" Asked Vilisse. The table of young men before her looked at one another. The one who seemed to be heading them up responded somewhat lazily.

"Um... Yeah, that sounds about right, doesn't it chaps?" He grinned broadly and laughed with the rest of them. Vilisse smiled at him and wrote something down.

"Well, then it'll be just a few moments." But before she could walk away, he grabbed her hand.

"You know miss, since your bein' so kind to such a rotten bunch as us, why don't we buy you a pint? No harm in rewarding good service, is there?" He grinned at her, and she returned it.

"Well, maybe another time fellas. I don't drink on the job." He let go and she walked back through the noisy restaurant, carrying a few empty glasses she picked up on the way.

"Quite busy tonight, aren't we lass?" Shouted Mr. Butterbur across the kitchen frenzy as he cooked a rather large pig roast.

"We sure are. I've waited almost nine tables now, and nearly half of them have been here for three hours." She responded, putting down the glasses and getting more pints to fill for the guys.

"Well, Jenna is almost through with me! She said today if she had to work another late night Thursdee', she's gonna leave." He began to flip over another set of chicken breasts that sizzled from the specialty marinade sauce they had concocted earlier that evening.

"Well, I am sure she'll stay as soon as she realizes how nice she's got it here!" Vilisse laughed.

"You know Amerlin, it's nice to know you're optimistic!" He grinned, marinating some more.

"Occasionally I can be!" Vilisse took a tray of ale back to her guests. As she walked out of the kitchen, the populated noise came back to her. She caught sight of her guests leaving the table. As quickly as she could without dropping the glasses, she went over to their table and set down the tray. They were leaving, with disregards to their check and tips.

"Well now boys, did you decide you didn't want your last drink?" She asked, smiling at them. The guy who had grabbed her hand before tried to explain.

"Yeah, we're a bit tired, we thought we'd better get out your way, looks like you're busy." 

"Busy we are, but paid you have not. Why don't you sit down and finish this up while I fetch your change? Unless you have credit, of course..." The boys all looked at one another. They were pretty much through for the night, but who was going to pay? "Hmm?" She asked them, smile unwavering.

"Well, I suppose we could have one more pint." He responded. She gestured for them all to sit back down, and when they had, she went back quickly to her change register, where the books were kept. When she came back to the deserted table, she saw they had come up with some of what they owed and sprawled it on the table in the form of coins and crumpled bills. They had left as soon as they had tossed it from their dirty pockets. Sighing, she sat down to count the change. It had been a while since she had been able to sit down and take a rest that day. She was doubtful that Happy Hour would end any time soon before she would finally lay down and sleep. They had come up with exactly three-quarters of what had been their bill. She put the change into her pouch and came back to the change register where she put the difference and their tab into the box. Going back to the table, she saw it had already been cleaned off and ready for the next group by Jenna. Vilisse smiled, thanking her mentally. She knew that in an hour or so the rush would calm down, and most travelers would be up to bed or still dwindling near the bar, but no one new usually came in, and that's when Vilisse would usually tell Jenna she would take over, and Jenna could go home. 

Dwindle it did, just as expected, and the house was only a quarter full at 12:30AM when a small traveling group came in. Vilisse had let Jenna go just after she had seated the new guests, and now they were Vilisse's responsibility for the night. Though there was something very odd with this group. It wasn't often she saw more than one elf at a time pass through The Prancing Pony, so it came to no surprise that she held her breath when she saw the four travel-worn elves sitting at a table. Suspicion rose in her heart as she wondered who they were and what they were doing so far out of country. She went into the bathroom and made sure that her ears had been fully covered by her long dark locks. It had been years since she had any extensive contact with elves, and wasn't too keen on being around them.

Walking up to their table, Vilisse tried to appear as un-elvish as possible. Smiling as best she could through her growing anxiety, she greeted them.

"Hello gentlemen. You look in need of rest... will you be staying with us tonight?" She asked, trying to appear only mildly interested. An elf with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes responded., the rest of his company too tired to join in.

"Yes, we are. I have a very good friend here, Mr. Butterbur. Is he present?" He asked her, his gaze locking with hers for only a second before she tore away from it. It looked to her as though he was trying to figure something out about her, but about what, she could not tell.

"Yes, he'll be in the kitchen. I'll be serving you tonight, what can I start you off with? The specials are pretty much done, it's too late for anything special, I'm afraid."

"We would just like water, if it's not too much trouble, ma'am." He answered back for all of them, and his look changed into a warm smile. She felt relief at his smile, thinking he must have realized he had mistook her for someone else. As she walked away, she could hear the distinguishable tongue she had not heard for many long years. 

When she came back from filling up their drink glasses, she could tell they were in deep counsel over something, one arguing quietly with another. When she approached, they stopped and looked over to her.

"Don't let me stop your conversation, it isn't as if I can understand you anyhow." She smiled. Vilisse began to put the mugs of water down. But as she did, her grip slipped on the last cup and it crashed to the floor, sending splinters of glass and water everywhere. Vilisse stooped down and began to pick up the glass carefully in her hands. 

"I am so sorry, sirs, I hope you'll forgive my clumsiness! I didn't get anyone did I?" She asked, looking up from the floor to make sure no one was splashed or cut.

"We are all fine, but mind your hands! They will be pricked if you do not get a cloth to cover them. It is for your hands that I worry!" Joked the one who had spoke before. Often had she been given comments on how fair her skin was, and how she shouldn't damage it with all this waitress work.

"Nay, I am fine. I have done this before, cleaned up broken glass." She bent down, her hair getting in her face. Pulling it back, Emerlie exposed a tip of her ear, though she didn't realize it. Vilisse felt movement behind her as the fair haired elf climbed out of the booth and began to help her.

"Why do you do my job? Weary you are, yet you do not take off your cloaks nor let a waitress do her own duty. Your friends don't seem to bother, why do you?" She asked, continuing to pick up the glass with her hands as he helped her. Though all he could do was smile.

"It is no matter."

"Ouch!" Exclaimed Vilisse as she threw down the piece of glass that had pricked her finger. She squeezed her finger, hoping it would stop bleeding. Putting the tip of her finger in her mouth, she grinned at him.

"Don't say 'I told you so'." He took her hand out of her mouth, and squeezing ever so gently for a moment, looked up at her.

"I told you so." His smile had faded. She grinned at him in mockery, then turned away to stand.

"I thought I told you not to say that," she replied, going back to the kitchen for a clean towel. Butterbur met her at the kitchen door.

"Oh lass, what have you done now?"He asked as he let another chief take over, wiping his hands on the towel hanging from his belt.

"I just cut my finger on a piece of shattered glass. No big fix, look it's already stopped bleeding." She put it up to him, matter of factually. Nevertheless, he sympathized with her.

"Well, I'd say you're here later than you have to be. Why don't you put that finger to rest while I take your tables? Tony is back there now, he knows what to do." Finally, as if her feet had called her saying how badly they needed to rest, she felt the night's burden catch up to her.

"Well, all right. I put tabs near the box. Here's the last table's." She handed the tab over to him, and took off her apron, swung it on the hook for Saturday, and stumped up the stairs to bed.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  



	10. GrownUp Playmates

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter Ten: Grown Up Playmates

  
  


Early morning came and went before Vilisse found the will power to get out of bed. It had been her usual late hours she had worked the previous night, but still her dreams had been plagued by something strange. Every so often now, she had dreams of the strangest sort. It as if they had never sent her away during her childhood, as if she had been back home with her parents, like she had never left.

After readying herself for the day's chores, she took her pack and headed out. It was Saturday after all, prime-time for the market. This was when all the best produce was in from the fields, and the little town buzzed with excitement. It was also harvest month, when the summer crops had finally come to town and the best of everything was present.

She passed through the Inn unnoticed, and the mid morning sun shined bright, beating down on her as she passed through the busy streets. The crowded streets were packed with tables and carts set up with ripe produce and their farmers. Women with bundles full of fruit and veggies led their screaming children past Vilisse as she made her way towards the fruit carts.

  
  


Not far away, four strangers took a walk in the fresh morning air. They treaded lightly on the crowded cobble stones and tried to stay out of the hustle and bustle of the market. They had stayed the night in the Inn, and had gotten up early before the morning was completely wasted. 

"Do you think she was the one?" Asked one of their company. The familiar golden haired elf thought back to the previous night.

"I'm not sure. She looked the part, there was something about her, something familiar. I could have been mistaken." He answered, shielding his eyes from the bright sun, looking down at the ripe nectarines. He picked one up and in the common tongue asked for it's price to the farmer and payed for it. He took a tasteful bite.

"How could it not be? Her father said she'd probably be hiding somewhere. I'd say working at that Inn, she'd be hiding for certain." Replied another in their Elven tongue.

"If it is her, she's not hiding, she's trying to disguise herself. Amerlin is not her rightful name." Commented the third.

"But why would she still be on the run? Surely she is old enough now not to cower away from her family. Surely she must know that they still love her?" Questioned the first..

"I do not know. Nor do I intend to pry it from her. Did you not wonder why she kept her ears concealed? And only when she was caught off guard could we tell what she was?" Asked the blonde haired elf, merely making a point.

"Yes, but she is practically betrothed to you, Legolas, and you to her. Would you find her and let her go, if this elf happens to be Vilisse?" Asked the third elf. Prince Legolas gave him a sharp look.

"Ramilin, I do not intend to force anyone into what they do not wish for. Vilisse Arandur is an elf as well. How can I have her, when she will not have me? It is a two way street, my friend."

"Yes, but by law she was granted to your family, your highness." Answered the First.

"We don't even know that it is her. Stop making assumptions, as we all should. Let us enjoy the morning. It is still beautiful and we have business to attend to."

  
  


Vilisse looked closely at some strawberries that a friend of her's family grew.

"Ah, Amerlin! Good to see you! It's been so long now, I thought something had happened to you!" Her friend, a human girl around 19 embraced her.

"Good to see you too, my friend. Your strawberries do look delicious!" Her friend grinned.

"You can have one, no charge, if you want. We've got some nectarines over here too. They're pretty good. I had one earlier." Vilisse took a bite out of a strawberry as she walked over to the nectarines, where unbeknownst to her, Legolas had been there only moments before. She bent down to smell them.

"Mmm... smell good! I'll take four." She said, handing over some of her savings. "So, have you done anything interesting lately?" Vilisse grinned as her and her friend began to take a walk through the market, leaving the rest of her family to take care of the carts.

"No, not really. Though my uncle Clavis stopped by to help with the harvest last week. Other than that, nothing. And you? Anything interesting at the Inn lately?"

"No... not really. Except I saw four elves last night, that was a bit strange..." Her friend bubbled with excitement.

"Ooo! What did they look like? I've always wanted to see elves, they must have been so beautiful!" She sighed. "Lucky you, you always get in on the good stuff."

"The good stuff? You know, there's more out there than just elves. I mean, would you really want to live forever? And on top of all that get pulled into an unwanted relationship for forever?" Lessie looked at her, a little angry.

"I don't get it, why do you hate elves so much? Every time we get to talking about them, it's as if you never want to see another elf in your life, when you've been lucky enough to see some. You're as bad as the young men I swear!"

Legolas cocked his ears, not more than five feet away, though many people between.

"I just don't think elves are all they're cracked up to be. I don't hate them per say, it's just royalty that get's at me. You know what they do? They sell their daughters to make money off the marriage trades. That's what they do. How would you like that? You think you have this whole life in head of you and all of eternity, but when you turn a certain age, all your freedom is gone." Lessie stayed quiet for a moment or too, realizing there was something about her friend she didn't understand. Amerlin spoke as if she had gone through the ordeal herself. 

"Well, it's not like I've got a chance of escaping that fate either, even though I have no royal blood in me. You think we have a better chance of escaping an arranged marriage, though we be just daughters of the working class? Speaking of which, father will be growing curious as to where I've been." She embraced Vilisse again. "It was good to see you, and let less time pass between our meetings!" Lessie headed back up the busy cobble streets, disappearing into the crowd.

Legolas had heard the whole thing as he had drawn closer, telling his company to stay behind for a moment.

Vilisse shook her head in thought, turning back to a cart full of corn bushels and raspberries. She bent down to have a good look at them, and felt someone looking over her shoulder. She abruptly stood and turned around to face the snoop before her. In the process however, she had knocked into him in surprise. Without even making a sound, he instantly grabbed his nose, as it began to bleed, not letting his eyes off her as she offered him her hanky.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" She had forgotten about her current conversation completely, and helped him hold it his nose, noticing he had been one of the elves at the Inn the night before.

"Dat's ok, I shouldn't hab stood so close," he managed to say, though sounding quite funny with his nose plugged up. Vilisse led him away out of the hustle and away from the carts. His company stood at a distance, smirking at him in his current situation. She sat him down on a brick barrier that separated the market cobble stones from the grass as she continued to help him hold his nose.

"I am truly very sorry sir. It seems you caught me off guard... much like that glass last night." She grinned.

"Well, I shouldn't have stood so close." His said again, as momentarily his nose stopped bleeding. He took the cloth down a bit. "I suppose you have dealt with this before?" He asked with a smirk. "Well, when I was a child, I had a friend who's nose bled very easily. We used to play outside the woods near his home and rough-housed a bit. So I'd always clean it for him, because he couldn't see where it was coming from," she laughed, remembering one of the good moments of life at the palace, and seemed to have momentarily forgotten the feeling of foreboding she had the night before about this stranger.

"When I was younger, blood used to upset my stomach. Not that I saw much of it anyway," he added.

"You know, my friend used to get so sick at the sight of his own blood he'd throw up! So I'd make him close his eyes." She went to the water pump and washed blood from the hanky.

"You don't have to do that, I'll clean off my own blood," he offered.

"No, it's all right. But you can have it! I don't think I would use it now," she grinned, holding it up to him. It seemed that somehow he was familiar to her. No, his handsome face wasn't just vaigly familiar... it was... recognizable. Vilisse's breath caught in her throat. He was what she had run from, from a fate that befell her years before. Her smile and laughter faded to a frown. Years had boiled down to this, the moment she knew she must never encounter. Years ago, she knew she would have fallen for his charms and grace, as she had just done."Is there something the matter, malady?" He asked, his grin losing its stamina. She began to back away from him. Turning quickly, she darted through the crowded streets. Legolas chased after her, and his group in hot pursuit of their friend.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  



	11. Wondering and Nioghtly Trouble

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter 11: Wondering and Nightly trouble

  
  


'How could he have found me?' Was all that raced through Vilisse's mind as she ran. She turned back to see him running after her. He was going to bring her back. She knew it.

She ducked down under some carts and ran through the side streets, trying to loose him. She darted in an alley, and hid around the corner, panting from the chase. She didn't think he had seen her come this way, maybe she had lost him. After a moment or two, she turned around to check. He was not to be seen.

Sighing, she slid down to the ground. She closed her eyes, and rested her head against the side of the building.

'How could they have found me? I thought they would have given up!' She shook her head in wonder. Looking at the sky above, she realized she needed to get home. It was almost time to throw on the apron again, and become Amerlin, Waitress of the Prancing Pony. Sighing more in worry than confusion that the elves would be back tonight, Vilisse stood. She took the side streets back home, in order to avoid another confrontation.

  
  


'Why did she run?' Wondered Legolas. 'Did she recognize me? Is she really the lost Vilisse?' He could only wonder as the group went back to their room at the Inn.

  
  


Vilisse was exhausted. It had been four hours of non-stop customers since she had last had a break. Now she sat in an empty chair near the kitchen entrance, figuring the final tab for a table that was ready to leave. She looked up to see four familiar elves walking in, just a little ways away. Jenna smiled at them in conversation and gave them a table. It was a good thing she was behind the counter, or Vilisse would have had some explaining to do. She snuck out of the loud kitchen, hopeful that they wouldn't see her, and finished off her last table for the night.

"See ya tomorrow!" She called to Butterbur as she hung her apron on a hook as he sizzled some soup.

"Bye Amer! Have a good night!" He went back to his duties. She put away her tabs and headed out into the fresh night air. It had been awhile since she had taken a walk under the night stars, and now that she knew she wouldn't be ambushed by the elves, she walked in utter peace. Looking up at the stars, she began to dream of things past, and things that would never be. Her mind drifted back to Legolas as she walked outside the town's walls and into an open field.

"What am I so afraid of?" She wondered out loud, laying down on the soft grass and peering up at the stars. 'Why can't I just keep a cool head, and pass it off? It's not like he's going to make me go any where with him, is it?' And then, she thought back to the glass incident and smiled. He had been rather sweet. And after all, he really hadn't done anything to her to make her afraid of him, it was her father she never wanted to see again, not Legolas. After all, she realized, he had been caught in the same web as herself. So far, her dealings with him hadn't been too scary, as she thought they might be. The only memories she had of Legolas had been sweet and innocent, when they were both just friends, and vowed to stay that way. The last time she had seen the Prince had been long, long ago. But still., something she could not deny tugged her heart in two. 

"No..." She thought again, as reason seemed to take a hold again. "Love will always be for someone better than I...." she reminded herself coldly. 'I mean, what am I thinking?' she asked herself. 'He never said that he wanted to love me, his nose was bleeding! And how could he anyway? He's charming enough... ask any elf maid in the world and they would probably be sure to do anything to rest upon his arm for eternity. I shouldn't even waste my time... I haven't come this far for this long to fail myself..."

Vilisse tugged at one of the weeds below her. A white wild flower, she smiled sadly. She had been running away from something good for these past years, and she knew it. Why she had been so afraid of falling in love, the helplessness that came along with it perhaps, was what she feared to drown in. She had seen human lives die this way, and had wanted no part of it. But she had also seen them flourish, and many friends she had made along the way had left her to this life with someone else to love, who they claimed to make them whole, as if they had only been a piece before. But how they felt whole, Vilisse could not understand... until today, that is. And it was this day that she realized perhaps her Elders had been wiser than she thought. 'Not all males are out to dominate and destruct... perhaps some really do care...' she thought. 'And maybe, Legolas is still my friend....'

Her ears picked up a sound from something in the field behind her. She had discerned some kind of creature moving through the corn stalks. Realizing she was unarmed and might be able to just blend in for it to pass her by, she lay as flat as she could in the long grass, hoping that the heavy footsteps were not those of a foe. Unfortunately for her, the footsteps of a rather large and stocky man ran over her left hand. It seemed he had been looking for her, because he immediately bent down and grabbed the smashed hand.

"Ow! Let go of me!" She twisted her hand out of his grasp and began to run away from him, using all the speed she could muster after the long night. But it wasn't long before he caught up to her slowing strides and tackled her to the ground, pinning her arms and legs down with his own body weight. She hit her forehead on the bottom of his chin, and managed to get him off of her for the moment. But all too quickly he recovered. The man pulled out a rusty dagger from his side boot and leaped at her ankle. He had managed to grab it right before she whipped around to sock him, but he put up his knife first.

"Don' move, or it be nicely up your leg," he threatened, pulling her closer to him under the dagger's eye. "Now, if your a good girl, you're gonna give me what I wan'. Understand?" Growled the man. He spared a second and placed a knife to her throat. 

"What do you want?" She managed to choke out, fearing the answer. She felt ashamed at being unprepared. Of course she hadn't thought to bring anything with her. All she had was her work clothes and a pencil.

"Hmmm... now that's a good question, in't?" He asked, forcing her to lay on her stomach as he put binds on her wrists, and covered her mouth with a work rag, causing her to gag loudly.

"You scream, and you'll have hell ta pay." He pulled her to her feet, and they went through field and forest and at last, they stopped. With knife still in hand, he sat her down next to a tree stump. Desperate thinking led to thoughts of escape. For a brief moment, she thought she was faster than him, and when he turned to get something out of his pack, she bolted. But she had no idea how much stronger he was than she at the moment. Hope against hope, she managed to run out of the forest and into the corn field, where, she thought, he would surely lose her. Stopping half way in to catch her breath, she turned around just as he plowed into her. 

"I told you ya'd have hell ta pay." He straddled her so she couldn't get up. Her angry eyes stared back into his lustful ones, as she lay helpless beneath him, trying to kick him, but to no avail. The last thing she remembered was absolute darkness.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  
  
  



	12. Blood Stained Trail

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter 12: Blood Stained Trail

  
  


"I need some fresh air. Don't wait up," Legolas instructed as he closed the door and went down the hall. He was used to not being at home, he couldn't help but it wasn't home without the fresh smell of pine and tree scent. Besides, taking a walk would do wonders to refresh his mind.

Outside the city walls, the smell of trees and corn filled his nostrils, which were still a little sore.

He walked through the grassy field until he came to the corn stalks. It had been many years since he had been in a corn field running through and causing trouble. He smiled in remembrance of his adolescence. What fine days those were, freedom to go where ever with no consequences, or at least it had seemed. Now here he was with his best friends on a vacation from what he missed.

He thought back to Vilisse, and if she was the girl in the market, the girl who worked at the Inn. 

It had to be her, he knew. He had recognized her, though graced with more age and female beauty than he had seen her last.

He came to an odd spot in the field. Some of the stalks had been mashed down and broken. He bent down to have a closer look. Though the night was dark, the waxing moon bent down its light.

Blood.

Here was blood. It was fresh, as if not five minutes before hand someone had been here. He could see its trail all the way down the length of the field. Curiously, he followed it.

  
  


Not more than a mile off from where Legolas now tracked her did Vilisse lay. She had been unconscious for only a few minutes, but it had seemed like hours.

She sat up groggily. 'Where am I? What is going on?' She wondered, looking around in the dark. She was in the forest, and then what had happened all came back to her. She laid her head back down. She had been over taken by someone in the corn field and beaten into unconsciousness. 'Where is he now?' She wondered. It seemed he had left for a little while. Opening her eyes, she tried to sit up. She couldn't see him anywhere with her keen elven eyes, nor could she hear him. The hurt from his manhandling pained her into reality. She was alone, unprotected, and unarmed. If he came back, it would surely mean her death. Deciding that now was the time to act, she began to stand up as the blood rushed back to her head, she leaned on a tree, then moving on as quietly and quickly as she could back through the forest. She really had no idea where she was going, only that is must take her away from that man. Sick and confused, she stopped frequently to listen. But nothing came. It was during her fourth stop that she came into contact with him again.

"Takin' a little walk, ar we?" He pulled her around to her knees, and jabbed his knife into her arm. She hadn't gone more than fifteen feet when he had caught her. Crying out in pain, she dropped her head to the ground as he put one hand around her mouth to keep her quiet and his other arm wrapped around her. The blood loss and weariness was beginning to take effect as she felt herself become extremely dizzy and spacey. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he picked her up and brought her back to his camp.

"Well, let's see what we got here, eh?" He jested sickly. She could feel the nights chill as he began to unbutton her front, exposing the front of her chest. He began to feel under her shirt, though she was too much in a state of shock from blood-loss and her head pounding insanely to do anything. He kissed her limp lips, putting himself inside of her. Closing her eyes, she felt herself drift in and out of pain spells, in which she had not any strength to stop him.

  
  


Legolas came out of the corn field into a forest. His sharp ears told him that something was close by. He doubled his pace but kept ever silent as he came into a small clove. There he saw a sight that sickened him. There in the darkness lay a young woman and a man on top of her. Though the man was only kissed and touched her, he sat upright to begin to unbuckle himself smiling haughtily. The girl on the ground lay bleeding and looked that for the life of her, she couldn't move an inch. Blood covered her face and hair, and a knife was jabbed in her arm. Looking closer, he could see elven ears protruding from her bloody scalp. Legolas swiftly took out his bow and knocked an arrow. Within a split second, the arrow was half way through the man's middle, and he fell off the girl without so much as a thought as to what had happened. The man lay on the ground, gasping at his wound and breathing heavily as he fell to the forest floor, dead. Legolas went quickly to the girl and felt her pulse. It was very weak, and felt as though she was about to loose all hope of survival. Quickly, he wrapped her up in her clothing and picked her up as gently as he could. He ran swiftly back into town, her weight never registering in his muscles. As he rushed her in to a healer, he looked fully at the victim, though bloodstained she was. There was no mistaking it: it was Vilisse. There was no doubt now in his mind that the girl who had dropped the glass, the waitress that had run from him in the market, and now the young woman that lay bloody in his arms in dire need of help had been Vilisse.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  



	13. Won or Lost?

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter 13: Won or Lost?

  
  


The faint smell of sage.

Hay ceiling.

Wood boarded walls.

Vilisse opened an eye. She tried to sit up, but found her muscles not willing to comply. 

"Ugh..." She grunted. Looking around, she could tell she had not been here very long. On top of her bedside table, there were white hand-picked wild flowers, no doubt from Mr. Butterbur and Jenna. After all, they were the closest to her in this little town, aside from Lessie. They didn't know who she was, or that she was an elf. 'Or do they?' She wondered. She looked to her stabbed arm, which was wrapped up in a white gauze that had been soaked through with her blood. She began peeling it off, but a sound from across the room made her stop.

"Tisk tisk, Daughter of Lord Huore and Lady Elwen Arandur."

She knew that voice. Vilisse looked around at who was speaking. There across the room sat the Prince himself. She had not noticed him there, he had been so quiet. Sighing heavily, she sat back on her pillow, closing her eye.

She had lost.

It was over. 'But what had happened?' She pondered as the previous night's nightmare came back to her. Vilisse looked at Legolas no longer with contempt.

"I thought they would have given me up for dead by now." She stated more than asked, in a monotone voice. He paused.

"Lord Huore has. Lady Elwen has not, though she would try to convince everyone otherwise." He looked at her with concern. "How do you feel?" He asked, the image of how he found her, so vulnerable and weak coming back to him.

"I feel... like crap," she answered frankly. It was not the choicest of words, but Legolas couldn't blame her. "How did I get here?" She asked suddenly. "I don't remember much. How long have I been here?" Her hand went to her head and felt the scab over her forehead. Legolas stood and went closer to her, sitting on the end of her bed.

"Twas only last night that I brought you here. And that was almost eight hours ago." He followed her gaze to the flowers.

"Who-do they know?" She asked worriedly. Everything swam to her head all at once, the burning questions she had about what happened and who knew about it.

"Too many questions. You need rest, and answers will come soon enough. All is well now, rest awhile, and I will come back and tell you everything. I need a bit of rest myself." Legolas walked out of the room. In a few minute's time, the healers he had sent for came in to re-dress her wounds and calm her as best they could.

  
  


Outside the room, Legolas sighed, leaning against the door. How could he tell her what had happened? How he was not sure exactly how far the foul man went with her in the forest? How Butterbur found out about her true identity, how Legolas upon his honor had to tell him who she was? He shook his head as he heard shuffling inside the room. He hadn't imagined ever finding the strong elf etched in his memory in the way he had the night before. She might never want to see Prince Legolas again, after she knew what happened, and that he saw her in a way he shouldn't have. Legolas walked steadily down the corridor, out to his three elf companions.

"How fares the Vilisse? Is she well?" Asked Raien.

"Physically she will heal and her scars will fade. But it's her spirit that I worry for," responded the prince. His face was grave as he relayed the information he would have to tell her.

"Should we send word to her parents?"Raien asked, "Don't they have a right to know?"

"I would sooner take her to them myself. Though she has much explaining to do, she is of her own free will. We cannot force her to come with us." He gave them all stern looks. "I will not force her to do anything. The last thing she needs is someone telling her to go back home. She is worried enough. Give her a few days, as well as I, to weigh the options."

  
  


Inside, Vilisse had learned from the exiting healers what had happened to her. She was sure to have bruises for the beating she had received. Lucky for her, she hadn't been able to remember most of what happened. And if it weren't for the magic of the elven healers who had been specially called in by Legolas, she might have felt more burdened. But what kept running through her mind was that before her violator could take the final step, Legolas had shot him through the middle. He had found her just as that man had left her.

She was in debt to Legolas, she owed him her life. But he had also seen much of her she had not wanted anyone to see, which troubled her greatly. She could not help but feel extremely uncomfortable. No male, let alone her father when she was a baby, and now that thug, had ever seen her that way. Everything else that had boiled down to this moment of realization was what made her crack. She had been everything she tried so hard to resist being: Vulnerable. Weak. Dependant. Vilisse cradled her head in her arms. Sobs started out small, but grew as the recent events took a toll on her emotional measure.

A little while later, after resolving herself somewhat, she called for Legolas, who sat ready at her doorstep.

"Yes malady? You called?" He went to her, kneeling at the foot of her bed, concerned.

"Yes. I am sure that you are a valiant and noble elf. But this I must confess, and also ask you. I feel ... ashamed at what you must have seen. But I need to ask you, how you feel about it," she asked truthfully. Seeing the pain in her eyes, he answered just that.

"I felt nothing save anger at that man... and pity when I found you." Wanting to move on quickly, Vilisse continued.

"And for your good timing and my luck, I owe you my life." She bowed as low as she could on the bed without hurting herself. "I am... at your service, your highness, granted once I am well again." She brought her head back up. She had not wanted to say it, but on her honor she had to. Legolas had to admit he was somewhat taken aback that she had just said that.

"There might come a time for that, but now is not that time. You rest up. For if we are to see you on your feet again, then you will need your rest," he smiled warmly and left. Though slightly unsatisfied that he hadn't given her an answer for what he wanted her to do to repay her debt to him, Vilisse fell into a dreamless slumber.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  



	14. Doubts and Discussions

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter 14: Doubts and Discussions

  
  


Some while later, after Legolas had sat in much thought over the matter, and when Vilisse had enough time to herself, he came back to her room.

"Feeling any better?" He asked, closing the door softly behind him. Vilisse had been sitting upright, legs crossed in a meditative position.

"Yes, much, thank you." Legolas sat back in the chair he had been in when she first woke up. He had something to say, and it was difficult. A moment of silence passed between the two elves.

"I know this is awkward, for the both of us," Legolas began. "I never even gave thought that I, above all others, would find you one day. Yes, there were times I gave thought to where you were, and mayhap what you were doing. But I never fully understood your motive for leaving, or who it was you were trying to get away from." Vilisse searched his eyes. For the first time, as it seemed in ages, she couldn't find the right words to say.

"I... was different then. Though not that I am much different now. I know things now, that I didn't then... But that changes nothing! My will is not bound in a union I yet have no consent in..." Her face grew colored with emotion. "Tell me, Legolas, do you still love the warring arts?" She asked, in a matter of fact.

"That I do," he answered plainly.

"Then what if, by your Elder's will, you were to give that up for a whiny female, and wait on her, hand and foot, forever? How would you like that?" Legolas sighed heavily. He knew what she was getting at.

"Vilisse, I would not like that, and I think no one would, whatever the gender," he countered.

"Ah, you can say that now, because it does not concern yourself! You would not be made to change as I would. A lady of the royal court, in leggings and a tunic, not bound to her husband's will? Could you really see me sitting alongside you forever that way?" She asked, more defiantly than really curious.

"Why do you think anyone would make you do that?" Legolas swiftly rose to his feet, walking towards her. "If a lady of the royal court, or of any court for that matter, wishes to wear her clothing of choice, and pursue the doings of her choice, then that is her decision, not someone else's."

"Well, I'm glad that you seem to think so. But in this reality, females don't get that kind of freedom, not all of us." She waved her hand in the air, as if dismissing him. "Obviously your ignorance puts you at a disadvantage here," she said in anger. But as she put her hand down, he caught her wrist in his palm,

"I don't know where you were taught manners, but obviously there is more here you're not telling me"

"And why should I?" She fumed, pulling her wrist sharply out of his hand. "What's your reason for being here? Have my Elders sent you to look for me, in hopes that you could reconcile me to fall in love with you and come back home?" Her dark eyes fumed with an anger backed from a bitter past. But instead of backing away, Legolas sat down next to her on the bed. It was a moment or two that passed before he spoke to her.

"I have been sent on no errand, and neither would I ever go on such a task. I would have you know that I would never love a lady who does not wish me to love her, and who would not have me. I don't believe love must be forged, or reconciled for that matter. And if coming home is the last thing you want to do, then that is your decision, not mine. The truth is..." he paused, trying to choose his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was for her to be angry with him. "I would not mind such a lady in my court." He held up his hands, as if stopping her from saying something as her lips opened to protest. "Hear me out, malady. Long ago, we learn how our Elders fall in love. That they meet someone perchance, and there's something between them that's been preordained, before they were born. We don't know how it happens, or why. But by the light of the Valar, we look for that one person, in hope that there is love for us out there. Many long years have I sat in cold halls at the bidding of my father, who hoped that I would find that companion. But I never cared to look, I never cared to search. So when it happened that I took a retreat from my duties as the King's son for a time, I had no intention, as I never have, of looking for someone. I walked into an Inn, and met a lovely young lady who waited on my friends and I in the restaurant. There was something not quite right about her, and her composure seemed too graceful for a mortal girl...yet terribly off balance." He paused again, taking a glance out the window, searching his mind for what to say as she studied his face. It was she who spoke next, not out of anger, but out of sincerity. 

"Do you remember... when we were children?" She brought his face back with her hand. "And you said that we would always be friends, and you would let nothing take me from you?" She kept her hand on his face, and tracing his chin she sighed heavily. "I never wanted to hurt you Legolas, believe me, please. But there were certain things that I had to do... certain paths I needed to take," she dropped her hand from his chin.

"And believe me, Vilisse, that when I say I believe something, I do. I don't say things to please people, I never have had to. I don't believe that our Elders had bad intentions for us, neither do I believe that one who cannot love another or would be unhappy doing so should marry. So believe me still when I say that I would not have you, for all the world, if you would not have me. Love, like friendship, is a two way street. It cannot be reconciled by others, nor forged. I come to you now as your friend, as I once was. Our childhood days together have been spent in my mind. I was hoping they had not been spent in vain, that more would take their place someday. You are free of your debt to me, Vilisse Arandur, and as free as you have always been. I make no judgment upon you, nor your decisions."

The look of surprise was evident enough on Vilisse's face that Legolas knew he had finally gotten through to her.

"If you wish me to walk out that door," he stated, passing a glance there and back again, "and never look back, or otherwise stay awhile, I will do so. It is your wish." He sat, waiting for her answer. In all the seriousness of the moment, Vilisse had realized something about her old friend, that he was not lying to her, as so many others she had done. He didn't look as though he ever had lied to her, or wouldn't. From the bottom of her soul, she knew she could trust him.

She looked into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, searching unfruitfully for some kind of emotion from him to sway her to either way.

"I am sorry," she turned her face away from his, looking towards the window for some kind of comfort. "I am sorry," she whispered, "for everything." She closed her eyes, thinking over the last years. "I was afraid... so afraid..." she whispered, bringing her gaze to meet his. "For the longest time, I thought that love was untouchable, that it was meant for someone better than I. That a prince would deserve a better princess than the one I could ever be, that you deserved something sweeter, something prettier, something more than what I can offer you." Legolas saw her cold exterior give way to the realization of something. "I don't know what is in your heart, but I know what is in mine," her eyes welled with tears not wanting to be shed. "I could never be your princess. It is not that I am not taken by your kindness and sincerity," she added quickly, "but it wouldn't suite me. I couldn't live like that, I couldn't let everyone down, that their princess was grudgy and off course. I couldn't bring that kind of shame to the Mirkwood throne... and it's family."

Legolas tried to mar his emotions with a stony gaze, but failed, revealing a hint of disappointment.

"If that be your wish, malady, then it is done." As he got up to leave, she reached for his arm, as if there was something else she needed to say, but couldn't find the words. She watched in dismay as he opened the door to leave.

"But let it be known to you, Vilisse, that you could not possibly let anyone down," he turned and faced her. "Not in your household, and not in mine. And if you are the most defiant lady in all Arda, I would still have you... and no there's no shame in that. Not here, not anywhere." He closed the door swiftly and was gone.

Vilisse's mouth hung open and much to her surprise, she felt a longing for him to come back to her, and tell her he would stay.

  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  



	15. Onward Ho

LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE

  
  


PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^

  
  


**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!

  
  


Chapter 15: Onward Ho

  
  


The coming days were filled with turmoil for Vilisse. She had avoided anyone and everyone who knew her at all costs, even Butterbur, who had been kind enough to give her the next few nights off work. Bree was more home to her than anywhere else she had stayed. People, she realized painfully, that she had depended on and grew attached to now had to be left behind. They couldn't know, they couldn't see her now. She hoped that she wouldn't run into any of them on her way out. But where she would go, she hadn't the slightest idea.

Lucky enough for her that morning, Butterbur was out on some business run, and the day employees merely smiled at her in recognition when she walked in to pack her belongings she had left in the loft upstairs. There wasn't much, but still most had to be left behind. She rubbed the blue stone that hung around her neck when she was finished emptying her home of a year and a half. She would miss the place, and the friends she had made. Sighing heavily, she began to put her life at the Inn behind her as she walked through the front door, leaving the employees with curious expressions.

Vilisse set out intending to stop at the General Market on her way out. She made her way out of the busy streets and into the small store. She would browse the market afterwards, and find what she would need for her journey. She entered the small shop, and it's owner sat perched behind the service desk, reading a book. His grey hair flopped messily atop his head, he looked at her through his nose-rimmed glasses with a curious glance.

"Something I can help you with?" He asked.

"No, I'll just take a look around, if you don't mind." She went back to gazing at the shelves and their contents while the clerk eyed her.

"Say, where you off to?" She turned sharply.

"That's my business."

"All right, all right. I was just curious. I've got plenty of travel tack, if that's what you're looking for."

"Actually, do you have any water jugs?"

"Yeah, what size you looking for?" The old man moved from behind his desk and he lead her to a box.

"Have any two-quarts?" She asked, looking at the dented canteens. He bent over, pawing through the mess until he found one.

"Here ya are. This what you're looking for?"

"Yeah... are these used?" She asked looking over the dents and scratches.

"Yeah, explains the price," she followed his gaze towards the sign, which was relatively cheap.

"This will be good, thanks." She exchanged her money for his canteen and headed out the door when something he said stopped her.

"Why do you hide?" She turned around, and faced him.

"What?"

"You heard me. Why do you hide?" She wasn't taking his hints. "You think I don't know? I know an elf when I see one, I'm no idiot. My brother knew when you came to him that you weren't just a normal girl."

"Mr. Butterbur is your brother?" She asked surprised.

"Yes, my little brother. I'm Stan Butterbur."

"Oh, I had no idea. I am pleased to make your acquaintance," she held out her hand, and he shook it warmly.

"You know, it's a hard thing, to find dedication and fidelity in someone these days..."

"Yes, I know-"

"I don't think you do. See, you have been running from something, it's evident now especially, the way you're all geared up. I met that old friend of yours the other day, Legolas, he called himself. He said he was your old friend anyway. Even the little things in this town don't go unnoticed. My brother told me some things that made me have absolute pity for you."

"Excuse me? Shouldn't you-"

"Yes, excuse you. That friend of yours sat by you all night long, and through the next day spent time by your side. I can guess what happened when he left. The one thing about you elves is you tend to wear your emotions on your sleeves. Now, I know none of this is my business, but-"

"That's right, none of this is your business, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of this. Goodbye Stan Butterbur-" as she turned to leave, he caught her arm.

"I had to learn this the hard way, please don't you do the same. Friendships walk in and out, but love never leaves." He released her arm from his firm hold, and he couldn't help but noticed how weary she looked.

"I know." Vilisse walked out of his door, leaving the old man to his thoughts.

  
  


* * *

Translations:   
  


Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.

  
  


Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).

  
  


Istima: Knowledge, learned.

  
  


Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.

  
  


Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.

  
  


()

  
  



End file.
